Evolution
by Athena Alexandria 2
Summary: AU, based on Boy in the Time Capsule and Player Under Pressure. What if B&B had met in high school? Booth is the star halfback and Brennan is the squint hired to tutor him, but what happens when they start to develop feelings for one another?
1. Chapter 1

This is my first attempt at a Bones fic (I normally write for Lost), based on an idea I had while watching Boy in the Time Capsule and Player Under Pressure: what if Booth and Brennan _had_ met back in high school when he was a jock? I've kept their back stories the same, so Brennan's past will come into it in future chapters. The only difference is that I shortened the age difference to two years instead of five for reasons that will become obviously later.

It's just a short chapter for now, setting up, but if people are interested, they'll probably get longer. Oh and I'm rating it T for sexual references because as we all know, Brennan has a knack for saying shockingly inappropriate things... ;)

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Chapter 1.

It was Temperance Brennan's first day at her new school, and so far, it didn't seem to be going any better than the last one… Not that she expected to stay any longer this time.

She was light years ahead in all of her classes – except gym, which, as far as she was concerned, didn't really count – an accomplishment that left her feeling bored and restless and ultimately unfulfilled.

There was always socialising, she supposed, which seemed to work for her classmates, but that was probably futile when the other seniors had already singled her out as a freak because all of the teachers liked her, and she'd only just turned sixteen.

That was why, when all of the table in the cafeteria were taken, she made a beeline for the football field instead, where she'd managed to make a nice little nest for herself under the bleachers.

There she could read while she finished her lunch without being disturbed… At least that was the idea.

She couldn't have been there for more than ten minutes when a giggle pierced the peaceful stillness, and a couple staggered in – the boy dark haired and built like a linebacker; the girl a tall bottle blonde with the kinds of curves that she could only dream about – groping at anything they could reach as they struggled to get each other out of their clothes.

She froze when the girl removed her shirt, and flung it to the dirt beside her, revealing a lacy black bra, wondering if she could slip out without them noticing when they were blocking the exit.

She closed her book, opening it again as a surge of anger coursed through her. She was tired of guys like him thinking that they owned the campus. She was there first. If her presence made them uncomfortable then _they_ should be the ones to leave.

She rolled her eyes when the girl moaned, "Oh Seeley," as the boy attacked her neck, unable to prevent a muttered, "Oh please," from escaping her lips. Who did she think she was fooling? She was just one in a long in a long line of conquests for this guy. They were all the same, and had been since the beginning of time.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the girl's gaze flick in her direction; she pushed him away when she spotted her sitting there. "Seeley, there's a girl under here."

"Hi," she said to break the silence as they both turned to her, tearing her attention away from her book just long enough to give them an awkward wave.

This seemed to call the boy to action; he started, leaping back as though he'd just seen a ghost. "Whoa, what're you doing skulking around under the bleachers?"

Typical. Guys like him could do whatever they wanted while everyone else was supposed to make allowances. "What am I…?" she repeated, narrowing her eyes. "Isn't that what _you_ were doing?" Was there nowhere she could go to get away from these people?

"No," he insisted, his posture becoming rigid, defensive, as his hands flew to his hips. "What I'm doing is very… different."

His logic didn't make any sense, and she was sure that it couldn't to him either. "Why? Because you were intending to have sex with this… cheerleader?" she asked, finding it difficult to mask her contempt.

For the first time since they'd so rudely interrupted her time alone, she took a moment to study his companion, trying to understand what he saw in her. She was pretty, she allowed, in an artificial way; she jerked her chin at the girl's ample chest, ignoring the disgusted look that she gave her. "I hate to ruin the surprise, but those are obviously fake," she told him, going back to her book; as he struggled to regain the upper hand, she couldn't help remarking, under her breath, "She probably fakes her orgasm too."

He let out a strangled sound, glaring at her as he picked up the girl's shirt and thrust it back into her hands. "You know, kid, you have quite a mouth on you for a dork."

So she was a little forward… So what?

She let her eyes wander down to the front of his jeans, then back up to his with a mischievous smirk. "Well you have quite an erection on you," she retorted.

His mouth fell open in shock. "Hey," he cried, scrambling to cover himself with his Letterman jacket. He didn't seem to have a come back for her. "_Hey_!"

Pleased at securing the last word, she scrambled to her feet, stuffing her books back into her backpack as she slung it over her shoulder.

Then, without a backward glance, she marched off to go find her next class, leaving him staring, slack-jawed after her.

Behind her, she heard the girl ask, her tone petulant, like a child, "Seeley, who was that?"

When he answered, he sounded dazed, as though he couldn't quite believe what had just happened. "Honestly? I have no idea…"

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In chapter 2 (If anyone wants me to continue): What happens with Booth meets his new tutor? ;)


	2. Chapter 2

Wow, I did not expect such a positive response! I was sure it was going to get flamed or at least ignored. I'm glad you all enjoyed it and that you even thought it was in character! Not bad for an AU and my first attempt! ;)

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Chapter 2.

"I don't know how to tell you this, Booth, because you're one of our strongest players, but the way things're headed, you're not even gonna scrape through on the NCAA's _minimum_ standards," Coach Wilson told him later that afternoon.

When he'd called him into his office, Booth had figured that it was to discuss the upcoming game, but now he found himself getting angry.

He'd always believed that his skills on the field would be enough to get him into a decent college. Maybe that was why he'd found it so easy to slack off when it came to school.

"Can't you just pull a few strings? You know, call in a favour?" he asked, not realising how this would sound until the coach looked at little affronted.

And why wouldn't he? He'd basically accused him of corruption. "Then all the boys'll be wondering why I didn't do the same for them," he reminded him, a note of disapproval in his tone.

Booth let out a resigned sigh. "So what do you want me to do?" he insisted. He barely had enough time for the homework he had with games, and practice, and his other… commitments.

"I've taken care of everything," the coach explained, and he felt some of the tension lift, thinking that he might not have to do anything after all, until he continued, "All you need is a pass, right? So we're gonna make sure you get one."

"How?" That meant that he was going to have to do the work himself.

"I've found you a tutor."

"A tutor?!" he repeated. He had his pride. Then again, if he couldn't play… "Who is he?"

"_She_. Temperance Brennan."

Just the name alone made her sound like a geek. "Never heard of her." Which wasn't surprising, considering that girls like that weren't on his radar.

He probably passed her in the hall every day without taking the time to acknowledge her, he realised with a stab of guilt that he shook off by reminding himself that that was just the way that it worked.

"She's a new student. Transferred in from Chicago," the coach said, flipping open the file in front of him so that he could rattle off her list of achievements. "GPA of 4.0. PSAT score of 240." He glanced up at Booth. "She also happens to be the youngest senior this school has ever had."

Great. As if he didn't look dumb enough, he was going to have to get tutoring from a twelve year old. "How old _is_ she?"

"Just celebrated her sixteenth birthday," the coach told him and he relaxed. That was slight improvement on what he'd feared.

"So this kid is some kind of a genius?" he asked. While he would never admit it, he couldn't help being impressed. He couldn't imagine being that smart.

"Looks that way," the coach agreed, closing the file, fixing him with a sympathetic smile. "Listen, Seeley, you don't have to be her best friend, but if it's the difference between you getting a scholarship or not…"

He couldn't deny the fact that the man had a point. He sighed again. "When can we start?"

At this, the coach grinned, clapping his hands together as he stood. "I was hoping you'd say that."

He exited the room, Booth heard voices outside, and when he returned, it was with a dark haired girl with piercing blue eyes and sharp, angular features – the girl from the bleachers. "Seeley Booth, meet Temperance Brennan."

He was so stunned to see her there that he didn't know what to say, a fresh blush creeping into his cheeks as he remembered their earlier encounter.

"You!" she hissed when she spotted him sitting in the chair in front of her, narrowing her eyes in suspicion as though she thought he'd set this up on purpose.

"Shouldn't that be _my_ line?" he retorted, recovering his voice in his irritation. How could _she_ be upset with _him_? She was the one who'd ruined his chances with one of the hottest girls in school.

The coach glanced from him, to her and back again, confused. "I thought you said you didn't know her?"

"I _don't_," he insisted, folding his arms and slumping back in his seat. What had he done to deserve being tormented like this?

A flicker of hurt passed over her features before she replaced it with her usual mask of indifference. "He's right, he doesn't," she agreed, to his surprise, her pale eyes boring into his.

"Then why don't I leave you two to get better acquainted? You can work out the details," the coach told them, stepping out into the hall and closing the door.

As soon as he was gone Booth leapt up from his chair, rounding on her. "Why're you doing this?" This was all some kind of sick joke. It had to be.

She folded her own arms, defensive, as she complained, "What?"

"_This_," he seethed through gritted teeth. "You show up here, humiliate me in front of _Missy Winters – _like you have any idea what that means--" he added off her unmoved expression "--and I'm supposed to listen to you just because you have an IQ of like… a thousand?"

"Actually, the highest IQ ever recorded was only 228," she corrected him in a haughty tone – as if he even cared – before rushing on, "and I _did not_ humiliate you, I merely pointed out that her br—"

He shot her a warning look, holding his hand up to silence her before she could bring that up again. "I can do this," he said, repeating it like a mantra as he massaged his brow with the other. "God give me strength… I can do this."

He glanced up at her once he'd managed to get his temper back under control. "Let's just cut to the chase, all right? What d'you want in exchange for you tutoring me?"

She perked up at this, the corners of her lips lifting into a wry grin. "Twenty bucks an hour. And a recommendation to any of your friends who need tutoring."

He could feel himself losing it again. What was it about this girl that managed to get under his skin? "_Twenty bucks_?! That's extortion! Five."

She levelled him with a cool stare. "Fifteen."

"Okay, _ten_." He wasn't going to let her win this round. Not after what happened last time.

"Good luck with your midterms," she told him with a smirk as she turned to leave. "I hear it gets easier once you fail the first time."

She was laughing at him, he realised. He wanted to let her go, just to show that he didn't need her, but he couldn't. He was desperate and she knew it.

"Fine, fifteen," he agreed, eyeing her with a begrudging look as he forced himself between her and the door, holding it closed. "Happy?"

Her face lit up into a broad grin, and for the first time, he noticed how attractive she was… for a nerd. "It's a deal…"

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Chapter 3: Booth learns some things about Brennan, and gives her a nickname... ;)


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks for the reviews. I'm still amazed at how much people seem to be enjoying this! ;)

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Chapter 3.

"What d'you need all this money for anyway?" Booth complained as they sat at his kitchen table the next evening with his Algebra books spread between them.

His parents had gone out to dinner, and his brother was on a date, so it was just the two of them alone in the house.

If he was someone that she was actually interested in, Tempe might have been nervous, but as it was she just wanted to get their first session over with so that she could pocket her money and go home.

"New car?" He grinned, lowering his voice as he leaned towards her. "Boob job?"

Her eyes went down to her chest, inspecting it critically, afraid that his words had some hidden meaning, until she realised that he was just teasing her. "My breasts are just fine, thank you," she retorted, glaring at him, to keep him from noticing on how hot her face was all of a sudden when she caught him looking at them too.

"And _that_ is none of your business," she finished before he could press the issue about what she intended to do with the money. He wouldn't understand, not with his perfect house and his perfect parents and his perfect life. "Now can we please just get back to work? I'd like to be home before midnight."

He chuckled, and she could feel herself growing even more flustered as he said, "You are such a square."

"I am not!" To prove him wrong, she racked her brains for an instance when she'd taken a risk and done something that could be considered impulsive, lighting up with excitement as she hit on a memory. "There was this one time in Chicago that I cut gym because the Field Museum of Natural History had this fascinating display on the basketry of the Baniwa Indian tribe of South America—"

His brows lifted, the corners of his lips quirking into an incredulous smile. "You skipped school to go look at _baskets_? Like I said, square."

He was making fun of her. She should have known better than to try to reach out to someone like him. "Fine," she insisted, shooting him a wounded glance as she returned to the task of setting problems for him. "Next time I won't share my story with you."

After that, she didn't speak to him again except to direct him, until he dropped with pen with an exasperated sigh.

"Okay, I'm sorry, Temperance," he said, and she could tell that he wasn't quite being sincere. It wasn't that he really cared about having her forgiveness: he just didn't like knowing that she wasn't under his spell, like all of the other girls that they went to school with. "Is it okay if I call you that?" he checked, still trying to cover his smirk. "What kind of name is that anyway?"

"It means 'moderation'," she told him without glancing up as she went over his answers, taking an inordinate amount of glee out filling the page with red crosses. At least there was one thing that he wasn't good at.

And he could talk. What kind of name was '_Seeley_'?

"Is that why you're such a killjoy?" he teased her, frowning, when he saw this, rocking back in his chair with his hands behind his head. "You know, your parents must have had quite a sense of humour."

She felt her whole body stiffen at the mention of her parents. Why did he have to go there? "My parents are dead," she told him, setting her jaw, keeping her expression blank. The truth was that she would probably never know what happened to them. "Thank you for reminding me."

He fell silent, returning the legs of his chair to the ground, averting his eyes to the page to avoid looking at her.

The next time he spoke, his voice was soft, apologetic. "I really put my foot in it back there, didn't I?" he said.

She could feel tears burning her eyes. She turned her head, willing herself not to cry in front of him. The last thing she wanted was his sympathy, to be known as the poor, lonely orphan girl at school. "Can we please not talk about this?"

He seemed to understand this, because he nodded. "Okay," he agreed.

She took a deep breath to compose herself, then closed his Algebra book and opened a new one instead. "Why don't we work on biology?" she told him, deciding that this might be easier for him to grasp, since it wasn't all math.

"So these Benniwah Indians—" he began, and she looked up, surprised. He hadn't seemed that interested before.

"_Baniwa_, and would it be correct to assume that you're not actually interested in learning this stuff since you keep changing the subject?" she asked, fixing him with a no nonsense look.

If he wasn't serious, then there was no sense in her trying to teach him. He might as well just keep his money.

He shifted uncomfortably, fidgeting with his pen. "I just thought we could have a conversation, you know, like… people."

She searched his expression for any indication that this was another joke at her expense, but when she didn't find any, she allowed him a tiny smile.

"Okay," she agreed, relaxing as she set her down pen down. She missed having someone to talk to, family… a friend… "What about?"

"So these… Indians," he repeated. "Are they just a hobby of yours?"

"No, if you must know, that's what I intend to study at college," she confessed, folding her arms in what was a defensive posture, reluctant to volunteer any more personal information than she already had. He knew more than he should about her, more than she'd wanted him to. "I'm going to be a forensic anthropologist."

She could see by his blank look that he had no idea what she was talking about.

"You lost me," he admitted, his brow furrowing in concentration as he considered this, making him look like a little boy. "So they, like, dig things up?"

"That's _archaeologists_," she corrected him with a wry grin. He was kind of cute when he wasn't trying to show off. "Forensic anthropologists are scientists who are called in to identify remains if they're burnt or badly decomposed, or otherwise unrecognisable," she explained.

"Bones," she finished when his confused expression changed only slightly.

"Bones, huh?" he echoed, latching onto this detail.

She smiled, pleased to see that he was finally catching on. "Exactly."

He smiled in return, turning the book so that he could read it. "So, Bones, how do we do this…?"

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Chapter 4: What does Booth think of this new information? ;)


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